


Another Perspective

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Original Character - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-08-26
Updated: 2000-08-26
Packaged: 2019-05-15 19:04:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14796209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: KD's Point Of View of the fledgling moments of her relationship with Toby.





	1. Another Perspective

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

RATING: PG-13, strong romantic themes  
DISCLAIMER: None of these characters are mine, EXCEPT KD Brody. She's mine.  
:) There's one I'd rather have but oh, well... Ah, Toby. ::Smiles:: All  
except KD belong to Aaron Sorkin and a bunch of other people, I suppose. :)  
I'm just borrowing.  
NOTES: This is a sequel of sorts to a small trilogy called "Perspective" that  
I wrote a while back in which Toby narrated a few of the important moments in  
his relationship with KD. Someone suggested I do the same thing from KD's pov  
or something similar, so here it is.  
SPOILERS/SUMMARY: KD's Point Of View of the fledgling moments of her  
relationship with Toby. In this part #1, ruins a bit for KD #1 "Kaught"

I can't believe the way he talked to me. As I storm out of the Oval  
office, I can't help but wonder where he gets off. I mean, he may be the  
President of the United States, but he can't tell me what to do with my life  
and he can't talk about my father that way. I move quickly down the hallways,  
not daring to stop until I'm outside and approaching the curb. I stop as I  
realize that I have no car and nowhere to go. I hail a cab and surprisingly  
enough, I get one.  
"Where to?" The guy asks as I climb in. I think a moment, and then I stop  
thinking all together as I give him an address. The guy nods and the cab  
begins to move. I still haven't begun to think about where I just told him to  
go, but instead I think about what I'm going to say when I get there. I  
realize what my reasoning is suddenly, and I pray it's enough. Right now I'm  
so frsutrated, so upset, that I don't really care. He pulls to a stop on the  
curb and asks for fourteen dollars. I hand over seventeen and climb out, not  
really knowing that I'd given him more money than I could afford to. I walk  
up to the directory and find his name at the bottom of the list. I should  
have expected that with a Z. I press a few keys, remembering some stuff from  
my FBI days and I'm inside. I walk to the elevator and get inside, thinking  
about the past few days and about what I'm about to do.  
The elevator doors open to reveal a grayish hallway. I step out into and  
start looking for the door numbers. I start moving down the hallway and  
desperately try not to think about what a failure I am. Maybe the reason I'm  
so angry is because i know Joss is right. I do need to do something with my  
life. But everything that has happened was not my fault. I left for LA  
because of the accident. I left LA because the Martinson death was too much  
for me. I left Minnesota because John Matthews wasn't re-elected. I was  
kicked out of the FBI because of Faraday. So here I stand, and he thinks he  
can yell at me for wasting my life. I find the door and stand in front of it.  
I stare at the golden letters and then I knock. The knock sounds desparate to  
me. Urgent, but so desparate. Am I? A moment later, the door flies open and I  
can see the distaste in Toby Ziegler's eyes. From the way his tie is resting  
in his collar, I can tell that he's been hard at work. I've probably just  
interrupted the one break he's allowed himself to have.  
"What are you doing here?" He snaps. I practically jump at the harshness  
in his voice and sigh. I look at my feet and try to remember the words that I  
had gathered in my head to tell him.  
"To be honest, I don't know." I find myself saying in a weak voice.  
"In that case, good night." He retorts quickly and starts to close the  
door. No, he's suppose to let me finish.  
"Mr. Ziegler." I exclaim, my throat threatening to close up. He stops  
suddenly, slowly the action of closing the door and watching me intently. I  
sigh again, trying to remember the words I had prepared and I frown slightly.  
His gaze feels so sharp, so full of anger and pressure. It hurts almost. I  
don't want to cry in front of him, but the heat is there behind my eyes.  
"Yes?" He asks sharply. I am wearing on his patience. I bite my lip a  
little and blink a few times. I can do this, I know. I can speak the truth.  
What is it about this man that makes me so nervous?  
"I know that..." I pause. I have to do this right. "I know that you  
don't like me. You probably don't trust me either... but if it means  
anything to you, I have... just had an upsetting evening and I don't want  
to be alone." I say softly, pausing briefly between points because I realize  
that what I'm saying to this man, this person who threatened to kill me  
earlier today, is that I need him. I barely know him, but I know that I need  
him. "And strangely enough... you're the only person I really trust; maybe  
because you don't like me." I admit to him and myself. He watches me  
carefully as I speak, his lips perse as he absorbs what I have to say. It's  
quite cute the way he does that, but I shake *that* thought out of my mind.  
"You know I don't have a place to live, and I can't go back to the White  
House... Not now." I say softly, remembering Joss's angry words. I shake  
my head slightly and go for the big one. "So I was wondering, if just for  
tonight, I could just sit on your couch or the floor of your kitchten and  
just... just feel safe than I have in months." I say, surprising myself.  
Why not cry 'I need you' while I'm at it? God, I need to say something else.  
"I understand if you say no but--" I start again, but his voice, softer than  
I've ever heard it, interrupts.  
"If I said no, I'd be the bad guy." He says almost forcefully, but his  
voice is soft and almost caring. I look at him and shake my head weakly. He's  
not going to let me in, I'm sure of it. He doesn't have to, I guess. I don't  
even know why I came here anyway. Did I really think he would let me do this?  
"Of course not. No one would even know I came here." I assure him weakly,  
my eyes burning as tears threaten again. I won't let him see me cry. God this  
day has been so hard. He stares at me. I'm standing at his doorway, helpless  
and vulnerable, just waiting for him to slam the door in my face.  
"I would." He said softly. He stares at me, his eyes seeming kinder than  
I've seen them before. I pause, waiting for his next move. He has a  
conscience, I know. I was just never sure if he had a heart. He sighs and  
steps back, opening the door to a wide gateway.  
"Come on in." He says. I look at him, trying to hide my surprise. I smile  
weakly and move inside. I hear him close the door behind me as I move slowly  
into what appears to be his living room.  
"Thank you." I say softly, looking at him. He merely nods. I look around  
the place, happy to be indoors, in a place that feels like a home and not  
some dank old hotel. I face him again to see him approaching me for a second  
but then he turns and moves to the hallway.  
"I'm going to work some more and then I'm going to sleep. Make yourself  
comfortable." He says, his voice shaking a little. Is he nervous? Why? I nod  
and watch him trot down the hallway. I move to the black leather couch and  
feel his warmth on it. There's a glass on the table, still warm with some  
rich liquid inside. I realize that I'm clutching my folder to my chest and  
move to put it on the table, careful of the glass. What a day it has been.  
What was I thinking, staying around here? I should have known something would  
go wrong. Something always does. I must be a jinx.  
I lean forward and open the folder, trying to sort through the many  
important and unimportant papers inside. It all feels like such a mess. I  
can't help but sigh, trying to let out the frustration I've felt all day, but  
I try to make a quiet sigh, for I can't disturb him any more. I've already  
ruined his night, now haven't I? I lean over the folder and trace my fingers  
through my hair, clenching my head slightly. I pull the folder into my lap  
and lean my elbows on to my knees so I can stare at the papers but I don't  
see them. My body feels so sore. I'm so tired. Why has my life been this way  
from the beginning? I never tried to be this way. I was going to be a doctor,  
but I couldn't handle death. I was going to be a politician, but I couldn't  
even get my boss re-elected. Granted, he was a jerk and he invented an excuse  
'not to run again' after he lost, but still, didn't some part of his failure  
fall on me? I was going to be an FBI agent and help make my country a better  
place, but I couldn't even control my anger. So much anger inside of me and I  
couldn't control any of it. I couldn't control anything about me or my life.  
Why couldn't I just stay somewhere?  
Suddenly I feel the anger again and I find myself tossing the folder  
aside into the couch and sobbing angrily. Why does it always have to be this  
way? Why can't I just have something normal? I sink my head into my lap and  
begin to cry softly, my arms crossing over my neck as if to pin me down.  
Maybe I can stop breathing and this life can be over with.  
I sit there for a moment, staring at the floor, and then something  
strange happens. Soft music begins to fill the room. It's got an upbeat tempo  
but it's still a sort of soft rock that I've come enjoy. I look up, my face  
still slightly wet and I see Toby standing at the stereo fiddling with the  
volume control. Surprise leaks across my face as he turns and looks at me.  
Who is this person and what has he done with Toby Ziegler? He smiles at me, a  
weak smile, but a smile, and very playfully starts to move towards me,  
swinging to the music. I've never seen him playful and I can't help but smile  
a little wider. He dances towards me and holds his hand. I laugh and take it,  
feeling him pull me to my feet.  
And we danced. I never would have thought he would be a good dancer, but  
he's fantastic. Between the soft rock, a little swing and all the more, he's  
a fantastic dancer. We don't really talk, but we dance together. He spins me  
across the floor and laughs with me, and I realize that maybe I never knew  
him in the first place. No one had ever told me about this side of him, and  
I'd never seen it, but I hadn't known him long enough to guess. Suddenly the  
CD switches over, and the music is slower, gentler. He holds me closer as we  
slow down and I can feel his body close to mine. Is this possible? I feel  
warm here in his arms, and I like the warmth. I rest my head on his shoulder  
and close my eyes as he holds me closer. I never thought of this man the way  
I'm thinking of him now, and I wonder what's going to happen next. I feel him  
nuzzle me softly, pressing his face against my neck and I can't resist the  
urge to hold him a little tighter. Is he going to kiss me? I look in his eyes  
and I can feel that he wants to. He looks back and then the music switches  
again. The music is uptempo and he immediately uses it to spin me again. I  
laugh and the dance begins again.  
We danced to many things. Jazz, waltz, more soft rock. He laughed with me  
and I watched him be more open than I'd ever seen him. The air feels thick  
with something I can't understand until another slow dance comes on and I  
feel his hand on my back. The thickness is the attraction, the feeling of  
wanting to be in his arms and feel him nuzzle my neck again. I nestle my face  
in his neck and I can hear his heart beat a little faster. I find myself  
yawning and he smiles at me. I blush a little and try to look at my feet. We  
talk for a moment and I tell him that the couch is fine, and then I find  
myself being tucked in, in a way. The last thing I see before I close my eyes  
is him smiling at me, the same confusion in his eyes that I feel in my heart.  
What has just happened to us?

The next morning, I awake with a clear head. I've dreamt of many things,  
things I barely remember. Toby was there, I know, in my dreams, and so was  
Joss. I know what I have to do. I can't do it alone, but I know where I can  
find help. I can't let this linger. I sit up and look at my watch. It's not  
even 5. I've gotten less than three hours sleep, but I know what I have to  
do. I get up, grab my stuff and pause. I move down the hallway and peer into  
Toby's open door. He's sleep soundly in what looks to be a very comfortable  
bed. I like the way he sleeps. I smile weakly and then leave quietly. I don't  
know what to say to him.

  


... . TBC... .

~D.C.  
Batman

  

  


	2. Another Perspective 2

RATING: PG-13, strong romantic themes  
DISCLAIMER: See Part 1  
NOTES: See Part 1  
SPOILERS/SUMMARY: KD's Point Of View of the fledgling moments of her  
relationship with Toby. In this part #2, ruins a bit for KD #2 "One More  
Night"

Okay. Am I ready for this? I look around this office, strikingly bare  
except for a few dozen piles of reports that apparently I need to read and  
two highlighters. Highlighters, not pens. I need a black ballpoint. I can't  
function without a black ballpoint. I sign for a very nice iBook computer. I  
swear I've seen one like this somewhere, but I can't remember where or when.  
The guy leaves and I sit back down in the chair. I grab the report I was  
trying to read and one of the stupid, stubborn highlighters and try to find  
where I left off. I make one mark before my door flies open and slams shut  
again.  
"You're working here now?" A familiar voice snaps. I was going to look up  
to see who it was, but having heard his voice, I decide it would be much more  
fun not to let him see my eyes. God, that man is stubborn.  
"Hello, Toby. How are you? Me? Oh, I'm just fine." I reply playfully as I  
make another mark on the report. Shouldn't a requirement of a job in  
Washington D.C. be knowing how to spell? I can hear him start to pace in  
front of my desk. What is it that is bothering him so much?  
"It's Mr. Ziegler to you." He retorts dryly. I smile and can't help but  
chuckle. I still won't give him the satisfaction of seeing my eyes, and  
instead I continue to at least pretend like I'm working.  
"That's what you've told me from the beginning, but have I listened?" I  
reply. He pauses. I assume he's trying to think of something witty, sarcastic  
and perhaps even insulting to say to me next.  
"You can't work here. Okay? You can't?" He insists. I look up at him,  
curiosity now written across my face. Why can't I work here? What's it to  
him? He can just stay cooped up in his office or something. Better yet,  
whenever he's feeling angry, he can come down the hall and blame me for  
whatever he wants to. Isn't that what he likes to do? As I stare at him, he  
pauses, staring back, starting to get engrossed in something I don't  
recognize. A strand of hair falls into my face and I reach up to push it  
back. He looks away and continues pacing.  
"Why not?" I ask. "Because you don't like me?" I half-tease in amazement.  
Is he going to attempt to tell me where I can and cannot work? The nerve of  
this guy. He pauses and then nods resolutely.  
"Absolutely. I don't like you. That works for me." He exclaims with  
something that could resemble a smirk. I hate it when he smirks. It makes him  
almost likable. I throw the report on my desk and get to my feet. He seems to  
lean back, as if praying for something while at the same time getting ready  
for some confrontation. I walk around the desk and lean against the front of  
it, his eyes on me the whole time, and mine on him. Is it just me or is he  
staring at me? If I didn't know this man better, I'd say he's staring at my  
legs.  
"That hardly makes sense." I finally say. "Besides, you only don't like  
me because I'm too much like you, and you despise that." I add with a playful  
grin. He glares at me, but it's a weak glare, one that I doubt he truly  
believes in. He brushes his jacket back off his sides and rests his hands on  
his waist by his pockets. God, it's kind of sexy the way he does that. Shut  
up, Brody. You're arguing with the jackass for crying out loud.  
"Well, if that's true, then we only need one of our kind in this office."  
He says matter-of-factedly. "I got here first, so get out." He adds. I can't  
help but chuckle. I feel like I'm standing in an old western. He's got his  
hands by his hips, ready to draw at any moment. Part of me realizes that he  
if he does draw the big guns, I might not be able to respond to him. This man  
has a presence to him, and I admit, sometimes it's kind of intimidating.  
"What's next? This House ain't big enough for the two of us?" I ask  
playfully.  
"Didn't I just say that?" He exclaims.  
"I've got a job here. I signed a contract." I say seriously. This is  
starting to get old fast. He can't keep me from having a job wherever I want.  
If I want to work here, I will, whether he likes it or not.  
"I'll burn the damn thing." He retorts with a mindless shrug. I admit now  
I'm getting a little irritated. He sees something in me that makes him tilt  
his head. What does he see?  
"You have no legitimate reason to not want me working here." I say  
sharply but softly. I can feel my lips tremble slightly and thank God that's  
the only part of me that's trembling. Part of me wants to hit this guy right  
now, but there's something in this room and I don't think hitting him would  
help very much.  
"You're immature, arrogant, a slacker and I have *no* doubts that you  
have a criminal record." He counts off.  
"You just can't find out for sure." I tease. Oh, maybe this can be fun  
after all.  
"Your file's been secured by the Bureau. They won't let me see it." He  
replies, an obvious hint of disappointment in his voice. I can't help but  
grin.  
"I know. They called me the moment you made the request." I notify him  
almost smugly. Part of me wants to chalk one up for Brody, but I hardly know  
why. I have some power over him now, don't I?  
"Why is your file classified?" He snaps. He doesn't like to be teased.  
"Because they just love me so much." I reply playfully. Just because he  
doesn't like it, doesn't mean I don't have fun doing it.  
"Very funny. You can't work here. It's a security risk." He says slowly.  
I snort and try not to laugh.  
"Oh, yeah right. If it were such an issue, Jed and Leo wouldn't have  
asked me in the first place." I point. I want to add 'don't you trust them'  
but he's too fast for me. God, is this what working here is going to be like?  
Maybe I should leave, just to get away from this. I must say though, it's  
adorable the way his nostrils flare. Nope, stop it. Stop thinking like that.  
"They're personally biased." He snaps.  
"Well if that isn't the pot calling the kettle black." I retort quickly.  
I'm losing patience and I can tell that he is too. He pauses and I realize  
that I'm having some sort of affect on him, but it's not getting me anywhere.  
He sighs and steps slightly closer, his nostrils flaring again, just a  
little.  
"There is a very specific balance in this office, a balance that has been  
nearly 18 months in the making. You can't just come out of nowhere and expect  
to be a part of the team." He explains softly, calming down considerably  
since the last time he spoke but still speaking kind of harshly. I pause,  
absorbing this statement of his and nod hesitantly.  
"You're saying that I'm upsetting this balance? Already?" I ask softly.  
He makes a little sense, but something tugs at the back of my mind.  
"Yes, that's what I'm saying." He confirms, a little surprised. Maybe he  
expected me to bite his head off again. I smirk slightly and try to act less  
upset than I am. I like this guy, he's a good person, and his approval means  
a lot to me. It occurs to me now how upsetting it is to argue with him.  
"Sounds more like I'm just upsetting you." I say finally, my voice firm  
but somewhat playful. He pauses and stares at me, his eyes reaching into  
mine. God, he's six inches away and those eyes are staring into me. I shift  
in my stance a little, his gaze unnerving me slightly. This wouldn't be so  
hard if he didn't have those eyes. He starts moving towards me, closing in on  
me with an almost determined look on his face. Our eyes are locked but I  
can't help but move away. We're moving at the same pace, me backwards, him  
towards me, and our eyes are locked. What the hell is he doing?  
I open my mouth to ask him, but he raises a finger. He seems to be taking  
charge of this situation and I'm not sure how I feel about that. He's still  
moving towards me and he's slightly closer now. I think I know what he's  
doing, and if I'm right, which part of me doubts highly, then I don't  
disapprove, but I can't be sure. I try to clear my throat and open my mouth  
again, but the finger appears again, and I say nothing. Suddenly I feel the  
desk behind me, stopping my retreat, but he's still moving closer, the same  
determined look on his face.  
"Toby..." I say nervously and try to smile. "I know you're upset but  
please don't kill me. You would be the prime suspect, you know?" I add,  
trying to joke around, but I was seriously beginning to think he was gonna  
wrap his fingers around my neck and throttle me. He's threatened to before.  
He is close to me now, slipping his hands to grip the desk on either side of  
my legs and growing closer. I close my eyes in time to feel his lips against  
mine.  
It was a gentle kiss, tender and unwaveringly sincere. I haven't been  
kissed in a long time, and he feels so wonderful against me. I kiss him back,  
my lips moving against his. I can feel his hand slip on to my hip and slowly  
move up my back, stroking me gently. I can't help but shiver a little as his  
other hand clasps my shoulder blades and pulls me close to him as our kiss  
becomes more passionate. His hands rest in the small of my back and against  
my spine as he holds me close and locks his mouth against mine. He pulls me  
closer as I wrap my hands around his neck and he kisses me even more fiercely  
as time goes by, and I find that it feels incredibly wonderful in his arms. I  
can't help but moan softly as I feel his tongue slip in next to mine.  
And then the stupidest thing happened.  
"Hey, KD, I was wondering if-" Josh Lyman has to interrupt. I pull away  
as Toby does and glare at Josh. He's standing in the doorway with his jaw  
dropped to the floor. I can tell he wants to grin like an idiot. I resist the  
urge to roll my eyes and look nervously at the floor. I feel so warm as I can  
tell that my face is blushing, but slowly returning to normal.  
"Perhaps I should have knocked." Josh says in a soft murmur.  
"Yeah, maybe." I whisper, staring at the scuff mark on my shoe. I have to  
polish that. Josh nods and innocently holds up a packet of papers. He makes  
motions with them and moves his lips, but it's as if his vocal cords are no  
longer working. He steps forward and puts them on my desk before trying to  
move out of the room as fast as he can, closing the door behind him.  
Silence in the room. Talk about an awkward moment.  
I stare at my feet some more, trying to figure out what has just  
happened. Did Toby Ziegler kiss me? Well, his right hand is still nestled in  
the small of my back. That's pretty good evidence that he did. Did I kiss him  
back? My arm is resting on his. His body is still pressed against mine and I  
don't mind in the least. That's pretty good evidence that I did. Does this  
mean he'll let me work here now? Suddenly I feel his fingers brushing my chin  
and lifting my gaze to meet his. We stare into each other's eyes and all I  
can think is, God, those eyes. I'm trying to find something in those eyes  
that says that he doesn't regret what he did or what I did. Soemthing that  
says he is glad we did this. As glad as I am.  
I smile weakly at him, still staring into his eyes. He smiles back, and I  
think that's a good sign. I reach up and gently stroke his ear with my index  
finger. He leans forward, and I find myself closing my eyes again as he  
tastes my lips gently. It doesn't take nearly as long for the passion to  
appear between us this time as he pulls me closer and begins to explore my  
mouth, begins to let me explore his. I tighten my arms around his neck and  
lean into him, kissing him intensely and loving every second of it. I forget  
about Josh Lyman and anybody else that might be in this planet. I just love  
the feeling of being in Toby Ziegler's arms and it feels even better as he  
tightens his clasp around me.  
So naturally that's when someone else has to come along and knock on the  
damn door. To my surprise, Toby does something I never could have imagined  
him doing.  
"Go away." He snaps as he pulls away from me for a second before kissing  
me again. I smile through his lips but then hold him tighter and return the  
kiss. He holds me closer and starts to lean me down against the desk. It's an  
almost playful gesture and I can't help but giggle slightly before kissing  
him very seriously and letting him lean me back.  
"Toby, is that you?" CJ's confused voice asks from behind the door,  
reminding us that this is an office and not the Chapel of Love, some place  
for us to make out. He pulls away from me slightly to sigh and then rest his  
head in my neck as we sit upright again. He starts to nuzzle my neck gently,  
much the same way he did a month ago, that night when we danced. He feels so  
good, resting his head there, and I can't help but chuckle and trail my  
finger gently up the back of his neck. Do I have the right to touch him this  
way now?  
"Do I still upset you?" I whisper playfully. He lifts his head to look  
into my eyes and smiles. He tenses his face playfully, pretending to think  
about it. I chuckle as I wait for him to 'decide'. He smirks and nods.  
"Absolutely." He murmurs almost seductively as his thumb strokes up  
underneath my shirt and tenderly tickling the skin of my back. I want to  
murmur and kiss him again, but the day...  
"KD, are you in there?" CJ's voice calls again, this time a little more  
impatiently. I look at the door as I remember and bite my lip slightly before  
looking back at him. I smile weakly.  
"Yeah, I'm coming, CJ." I call back. "Reluctantly." I add as I linger in  
his warm arms and then hesitantly pull myself away. It's not as easy for me  
to shout 'go away' especially now that the mood has been broken. I feel his  
eyes on me as I walk to the door and open it. CJ is standing there with a  
curious, playful grin on her face, and I can just tell that some teasing is  
going to come out of this. Behind her, several of the people in the pullpen  
are looking towards my office. I hope I'm not blushing. This is a kind of new  
experience for me.  
"What were you two doing?" CJ exclaims playfully. If I didn't know any  
better, I'd say she was excited. I shoot her a glare. Grow up, CJ. But  
somewhere I acknowledge the fact that she's playfully hinting at something  
that actually did happen, whether I want to admit it to the White House staff  
or not.  
"Nothing." Toby replies suddenly. I look at him and I can tell that he's  
embarrassed. I've embarrassed him. "I have to go. I've got a..." He pauses  
nervously. "Uh, a statement to write for when the president goes to the floor  
tomorrow. I'll see you later, CJ." He pauses and looks at me and tries not to  
let that same softness that I know he has into his voice. "KD." He adds and  
then moves out of the room as quickly as he can. I close the door behind him  
and then glance at CJ who is grinning like an idiot. I roll my eyes and move  
to sit down while she watches me.  
"Stop looking at me like that." I say with a shy grin and try to find  
something to do with my hands. All I can think about though is Toby Zeigler,  
even as CJ sits in an armchair watching me and a man arrives to give me a  
couch.

  


... . TBC... .

~D.C.  
Batman

  


	3. Another Perspective 3

RATING: PG-13, strong romantic themes  
DISCLAIMER: See Part 1  
NOTES: See Part 1  
SPOILERS/SUMMARY: KD's Point Of View of the fledgling moments of her  
relationship with Toby. In this part #3, ruins a bit for KD #2 "One More  
Night"

My Lord. I haven't been working here a week and I'm sitting behind the  
scenes of the White House, behind Washington D.C, playin poker with the  
President and his staff. Not to mention the fact that I'm wiping them clean.  
I wonder if they'll even invite me next time. Maybe I should quit while I'm  
ahead.  
Nah.  
"Full house, queens over sevens. I declare as I show the rest of them my  
hand. Everyone groans, everyone, as they throw their cards towards Joss. He  
collects the cards as I rake in the winning and glance around the room. Sam,  
Josh, CJ, Leo, Joss and Toby sit at the table with me, and I can tell they  
all have things on their minds. CJ came late, and I'm willing to bet it's  
because of Danny Concannon. Oh, Danny. Sometimes I regret what I did to him.  
How could I not? What a wonderful guy. I'm glad he found someone else. I  
wonder what I've got though. I look across the table at Toby but he's looking  
away and reality calls.  
"For your first poker game, you're not being very merciful." CJ murmurs.  
I chuckle and shrug.  
"I can't imagine what kind of hell Joss could put you through on a good  
night." I point out as I obviously make little neat piles out of my many,  
many chips. God, it feels good to win. The problem is that I really don't  
care about the stupid chips or the money. I care about the fact that Toby  
won't look at me. Joss chuckles some more and starts to deal.  
"Hey, this little brat taught me how to cheat. Blame someone, blame her."  
He says with a grin as the cards slide across the table, reaching the fingers  
of my new coworkers. I look around the room and realize I'm going to be happy  
here, but then I see Toby and that realization drifts away again.  
"I already do. That's why we hired her, to blame her." Josh suggests. I  
laugh at him while everyone else chuckles. Suddenly I see Toby standing up.  
"Deal me out." He says softly before disappearing into the other room. I  
watch him disappear and the question returns to me. Do I have someone now or  
don't I? He won't even look at me.  
"Six. Eight. Another Eight. Three. Jack. Dealer gets a king. Dealer bets  
five." Joss calls as he tosses a chip in. I tap my fingers on the table and  
look at the pair of jacks that Joss has given me.  
"In." CJ agrees. I think.  
"Yep." Josh says as he throws in his bet. I look at the door.  
"I'm in." Sam says as he peeks at his cards one more time. I look at the  
growing pot in the center of the table.  
"Me too." Leo exclaims. I look at my cards again and sigh.  
"I'm out." I decide. "Give you guys a break." I add with a wry grin and  
toss the cards into the pile. I feel all the eyes on me as I move out of the  
room and into the one where Toby is standing. He's staring out the window,  
watching the rain. He seems so dark, standing there all alone. I close the  
door behind me and watch him for another few seconds.  
"Hey, are you okay?" I ask softly as I close the door. He lifts his eyes  
a little but doesn't look at me. I can see his face in the window, and he  
looks like he's thinking. Does he think about it too? I lean against the door  
and watch him. I bite my lip and try to think of what I want to say to him.  
What does he need to hear from me? It's like that first night we danced  
together. There was something I needed to say but I never said it. I never  
will. This whole thing confuses me. The last time I was in a relationship, a  
true, steady, solid relationship, was with Danny Concannon almost nine years  
ago. The way that ended, I was too hurt to ever think about love again, and  
here I am, wondering what the hell I'm feeling for a man who hides his  
kindness away from the world and presents the people he trusts with a  
demeanor of sarcasm and dry wit amidst workaholism and anger. There's so much  
I want to say to him but I barely know him and I don't know if whatever I'm  
feeling is real. It's been too long since I've felt anything real.  
I can hear the rain. It sounds loud almost, even from here. I move  
forward a little, walking towards a small table that it's in the center of  
the room. I move around it and lean against the edge, watching him the whole  
time. He turns slightly and I know he's watching me out of the corner of his  
eyes. He turns back and I desperately want to know what he's thinking about.  
"You're missing all the excitement in there." I say softly, almost  
blurting out just whatever comes to my mind. "Jed's counting cards again.  
Boy, do I regret the day I taught him to do that." I add, smiling weakly. I  
don't even know if he's listening to me. With his back to my face, I can't  
tell if he's paying attention to a word I'm saying. Was this a bad idea,  
coming in here? I look back at the poker room. No, this wasn't a bad idea, I  
decide and look at his back, a little more relaxed. This was a good idea,  
because I need to know where we stand. I have to know what he's thinking.  
There's a pause between us. He's staring out the window and I'm trying to  
find the right words. What the hell do you say to a man who writes speeches  
for a living? I feel like whatever I say might sound stupid to him. But I  
have to say this anyway. It seems he might be relaxing some.  
"I can tell you're thinking about something. I don't pretend to know what  
it is. You've been kind of dark ever since..." I trail off. I can feel my  
throat start to close up. What if he says it was a mistake? What if he says  
he hates me still and I have to find a way to move on? I feel like a goddamn  
teenager again. I didn't enjoy being a teenager, and now I remember part of  
the reason why. But I can't let him see, or hear, how afraid of him I really  
am. "I don't know if you want to talk about it, or even if you *will* talk  
about it with me..." I trail off again. I have to say this right. But am I  
pressuring him? Am I doing this all wrong? If I'm so nervous about this, what  
is he feeling? I need to know, don't I? "I know that something happened, but  
we're not really... officially anything." I admit. "If you regret what  
happened, you should tell me because I..." Because I don't. That's what I  
want to say. I don't regret it. This is the hardest part for me. What if he  
says yes, I do regret it? I shake my head slightly and say something else.  
"Well, because I don't know."  
He inhales through his nose and suddenly he's facing me. His eyes cross  
the room and reach mine and I see in him what I felt a few days ago when he  
kissed me and I kissed back. It's a little unsettling, for he hasn't looked  
at me in days, and now I can see his eyes again, and I remember how they make  
me feel. But he hasn't answered me. He's only facing me, not telling me what  
I do or don't want to hear. I'm dying of curiosity, and it's a bit of a shock  
when he starts moving towards me again. This is what he did last time. He's  
got something tugging at the corners of his mouth and there's an almost  
invisible smirk plastered across his face as he moves towards me. God, is  
this going to be a repeat of last time? I admit, I'm a little nervous. If  
this is how it's going to start, I may be getting in deeper than I'm ready  
for. Can I learn to trust again? Have I done the right thing in pursuing  
this? I try not to think about that. Instead I focus on those eyes.  
"I just thought maybe you'd like to talk about whatever it is." I say  
slowly as he gets closer. I think the room is getting warmer. There's such a  
determined look on his face. "You don't have to, but it might make you feel  
better..." I pause, trying to read him, but I should know by now that such  
a task is impossible. "um, to get whatever it is off your chest." I finish  
softly as I feel my face spread into a smile, a small one, but a smile  
nonetheless. He's two feet away from me and I can see in his eyes a sort of  
mischievous intent. I smile a little wider.  
"Hmm." He says thoughtfully in a soft voice. "Might." He adds, a sort of  
tenderness to his voice that I've never heard from him. The word itself is  
playful and I smile. He's so close now, I want to grab him by his jacket and  
pull him the rest of the way, but there's a reason he's biding his time. We  
have to take this slow, I know. I think he knows it too. So many things  
happened to me the last time, and I don't want to feel that way again. I  
think it's the same with him. I think maybe he's getting over a similar pain  
to mine and he just wants to walk towards me, his eyes locked with mine. I  
shift a little against the table as I realize that what's happening right now  
is the beginning of something very serious. I realize it's going to be worth  
it if it works because I can just stare into those eyes and get lost. I  
always thought it was a good sign when I could get lost in someone's eyes,  
and my God, staring into him, I don't think I'll ever get out. I have to find  
something to cling to.  
"So do you want to talk about it?" I ask absentmindedly. He's so close  
now, I can feel him. He's watching me, listening to me squirm in my  
nervousness and I know he's having fun. "I mean, I'd like to think we've  
grown closer recently..." I stop as he arrives in front of me and begins  
to slip his hands around my waist. He nods to me and starts pulling me to  
him. I can't help but smile and move with his touch. He pulls me closer to  
his body as he moves forward, closer to the table. Suddenly he has me pinned  
between his body and the table. He slowly slips his hand up through my hair  
and takes a gentle hold of my head, very gentle. I close my eyes again as he  
pulls me to his lips. God, it is warmer in here, and the heat is growing. I  
can feel myself tremble ever so slightly, trying to remember that this is a  
man's touch. His hands slip around me completely as I pull him closer,  
wrapping my arms around his neck. The kiss is growing and I can feel his  
tongue tenderly tasting mine.  
I think I hear someone talking, but the voice disappears, so I don't even  
know. Toby starts to pull me and I move with him. I can feel him press me  
downwards on to a soft surface, my guess would be one of the couches in the  
room. I love the feeling of being in his arms. It's a feeling I haven't  
known, ever. Is this what it's going to be like. This is going to go slow, I  
know that much. We can't do anything more than what we're doing now because  
my surrogate fathers are on the other side of that door and that's something  
I don't want to deal with. He clutches me closer, exploring courageously and  
I have to bite my lip not to murmur softly. I never expected this night to go  
like this, but how happy it makes me feel for it to have done so. What does  
this mean in the long run? Is this his answer to me? I don't know, but as I  
feel his lips against mine again, I pray to God that it is.

  


... . TBC... .

~D.C.  
Batman

  


	4. Another Perspective 4

RATING: PG-13, strong romantic themes  
DISCLAIMER: See Part 1  
NOTES: See Part 1  
SPOILERS/SUMMARY: KD's Point Of View of the fledgling moments of her  
relationship with Toby. In this part #4, ruins a bit for KD #4 "A Life Less  
Complicated"

Okay, Brody, time to stop worrying. He is going to call. He said he  
would. It is a bit strange that he didn't come to the airport. It's a bit  
scary. After eight months in this relationship, seven or eight anyway, and he  
doesn't show up to the airport. I admit I'm worried, but I shouldn't be. I  
shouldn't. There's got to be something important that he's working on. Sam  
said he was working and that's the way it goes here in Washington. I mean, we  
work at the White House for crying out loud. Still, Sam and Leo, they made  
it. Abbey made time to greet her husband and we were all very happy to see  
each other. No, must stop thinking about this. I've got to put the dishes  
away now.  
I put a few dishes in the dishwasher and then move for the living room. I  
still have the light on, even though it's going on ten o'clock. Joss has been  
keeping me up all day and night, and I admit to being a little tired. Am I  
waiting up for Toby? I don't even know. Is he going to come? Is he going to  
call? I think my heart is wilting when I keep finding no as an answer. What  
did I do? Did I do something wrong? Did someone tell him I spent the night in  
Joss's room in Olympia and he jumps to conclusions? God, I hope not. I hope  
he's just working hard and I'm being overly paranoid. He is a workaholic and  
so am I. I just have to stop and breathe for a few moments and this fear will  
go away, right?  
I start heading back to the kitchen when the doorbell rings. Is that him?  
Is that Toby, forgetting that he has a key? I hope it is. I want to see him  
again, to see those eyes and feel him hold me in his arms. I move to the  
door, twist the lock and open it up. There he is, standing in my doorway,  
looking a little bedraggled. It's so unusual to see him without a tie and I  
realize he hasn't been working. He has his hands in his pockets and he's  
staring at me with those eyes that I love so much. Is he checking me out?  
God, this reminds me of that night a long time ago when I came to his  
doorstep. Is this how I looked to him? Like a puppy sitting on the welcome  
mat begging to come in. I smile weakly and step back slightly.  
"Toby. This is a switch." I say playfully. I remember that night so  
clearly and I realize that *that* was the night I fell in love with him. Any  
moment after was just a moment of circumstance. He says nothing, just watches  
me quietly and it's almost unnerving. "Come on in." I say softly and open the  
door a little wider. He moves inside and looks around, but he doesn't look at  
me. Why isn't he looking at me? I'm scared now, and I don't know why. I close  
and lock the door again before moving towards the kitchen.  
"Want something to drink?" I ask. "Coffee? Water? White wine?" I suggest  
slowly, still getting no answers from him. I pause in the kitchen doorway and  
look at him again. His eyes are watching me, and I know he's trying to decide  
what to say to me. I want to ask him where he was. I want to ask him why he  
didn't call. I want to ask him if he even missed me while I was gone. He has  
said nothing still and I'm getting a little more nervous. "Blood?" I ask  
sharply. He looks up into my eyes. "Answer me please, Toby." I plead, trying  
to smile despite the fact that I'm petrified he's come here tonight to break  
my heart. He suddnely starts to move forward.  
"White wine sounds good." He says very softly. "What's the vintage?" He  
asks, and I know he's trying to make small talk before he moves on to the  
serious subject matter. I pause for a moment, watching him, and then move  
slowly into the kitchen, heading for the fridge to get the bottle of wine.  
"85' Chandler Chardonnay. It's all I've got that's cold." I reply  
honestly, playing his game for the time being. I see him nod as he enters the  
kitchen and leans against the counter. Why won't he say something to me? With  
his eyes on me, I get out two glasses and a bottle opener. I move to grab the  
bottle and slowly pry off the top. As I start to pour the wine, I hear a soft  
sound and then he's there, slipping his arms around my waist and kissing my  
neck gently. I can't help but smile. Maybe he's not going to hurt me tonight  
after all. As I pour the wine, I lean back into him a little, letting him  
know that I love him, if only subtly. And God, how I love him.  
"I missed you." He whispers in my ear. Those three words feel so good, I  
almost want to cry.  
"I missed you too." I reply as I pour the second glass. The moment of  
truth. "I must admit, I was kind of surprised not to see you at the airport  
today." I add softly as I put the bottle down, grab the glasses and turn  
within his grasp to look him in the eye. I hand him one of the glasses and  
wait to find out if I'd just made a big mistake by pressuring him. He takes  
the glass from me and does everything he can not to look me in the eye. What  
have I done?  
"I, uh, had some stuff to do. Extra work and that crap." He says, but his  
voice is uncertain. He brings the glass to his nose and takes a deep sniff. I  
love the way he's devoted to his wine. He takes a sip and I smile. What is he  
trying not to say to me? I take a sip, still watching him. It tastes good,  
sweet and powerful on the tongue. It reminds me of him.  
"Hmm." I say softly. "Sweet, dry, but lovable." I point out with a smirk  
before giving up on resistence and kissing him gently. I need to feel his  
lips again. He kisses me back, his hand in the crook of my back pressing me  
closer to him a little. As we part, he smiles and I know that he knows what  
I'm talking about. I'm talking about him, every bit as much as the wine.  
"Excellent in any case." He adds softly, a playful glint in his eye. I  
chuckle and nod before tipping the glass to my lips again. He looks down at  
me, seeing how he's pinned me against the counter during our brief embrace  
and he steps back suddenly. Why did he step back? I frown, a little hurt and  
disturbed. Does he not want to touch me any more? Why did he back away?  
"What's wrong, Toby?" I ask quietly. "There's something you're not  
telling me." I tell him while looking down at the glass in my hands. I hope  
he sees that I'm pointing out to him that I know he's hiding something and  
it doesn't feel good, not to me. I need him to tell me. I hear him sigh and  
the soft clink of his glass as he put it down on the counter behind me. Does  
he know how he's making me feel? I feel like he's here to tell me he has to  
leave, but keeps changing his mind.  
"The day you left, about two hours after your plane took off," He starts  
slowly. "my ex-wife came to visit me and she asked me to escort her to a  
dinner. I reacted to this and she admitted that she wanted to give our  
relationship another chance." He tells me. Silence fills the room. My God, is  
he here to tell me that he's going back to her? That I'm on my own? I gulp as  
I feel my throat start to catch and I can feel the tears coming to my eyes. I  
try my best to blink them back and to hope for the best, but his behavior,  
his tone of voice... Am I going to be alone again, after all that I've  
been through? It took so long for me to trust a man again, to open myself up  
into a relationship and now... is he leaving me? I know things don't  
always last, and this woman did get him first, but for some reason, I don't  
think my heart can take this.  
"And what did you say?" I whisper, trying to keep control. I don't know  
anything for sure yet.  
"I said no, and told her to get out of my office, but-" There's always a  
but and I don't think I can stand to hear it from him. I know what his but is.  
"But the idea managed to get planted in there somewhere." I interrupt  
softly. He nods, hesitantly. I know him so well, after all this time. The  
idea is in his head, and he wants to go back to her. He wants to give what he  
had with her another chance. That's got to be it. Why else would he be acting  
this way from the first minute? Why else would he not appear at the airport,  
promise to call and then not?  
"Yes." He confims. I nod weakly. I was right. He wants to leave.  
"So what are you going to do now? I mean, what do you want to do?" I ask.  
This is me giving him his chance. Just say it and leave, Toby. No hard  
feelings, right? "I just want whatever makes you happy, Toby." There you go.  
That's your way out. Take it and leave me in my pain. But he doesn't. He  
shakes his head, taking my glass and putting it on the counter next to his  
own. He pulls me close to his chest and I remember how good it feels to be in  
his arms. I bury myself within him, trying not to cry as I realize that maybe  
I was wrong.  
"Don't think for a moment that I'm going anywhere. This is my answer to  
you and to her, the fact that I'm standing right here, right now. I love you,  
Katy." He says softly in my ear. A tear falls down my face as I hug him  
tightly, smiling widely as I realize for sure that this one is mine. He's  
mine. He hugs me back tightly, holding me close and probably not realizing  
what he does to me. I lean back and look him in the eye. I love those eyes.  
We smile at each other and I find myself loving the look of the smile I get  
to see so rarely. He never smiles in public unless he's mocking someone. He  
leans forward and his lips press against mine once again. I wrap my arms  
around his neck and kiss him back, holding him a little tighter as he runs  
the tip of his tongue over my own. I can't help but moan a little through his  
lips as he holds me tighter and starts to push me back towards the counter  
again, his hands running up and down my back. An idea flashes through my head  
and I pull away from him, despite the cries my body makes in protest. I smile  
a little devilish smile at him and he just smirks back in confusion.  
"What?" He asks.  
"I just got an idea." I admit and then move away from his warm arms arnd  
out of the room. I go to the living room and find a CD out of my entirely too  
massive collection. I hear him come into the room as I put the CD into the  
stereo and press play. Musc begins to stream out of the speakers and memories  
are brought back of that first night when we danced. I pause a moment and  
then face him, smiling and dancing playfully towards him. He gets a  
determined look on his face and stands still. Ah, a challenge, I think  
lovingly. I try to dance as seductively as possible, doing everything I can  
to add some element of sexiness so that I can break through that mock barrier  
of his.  
He still hasn't moved when I reach him so I turn slightly and press  
against him, still dancing to the music. I rub against him, swaying my hips  
and swing my arms gently. I hear him stifle a groan and then he takes hold of  
me, spinning me into his arms and moving me across the floor in the spirit of  
dance. He dances the tango with me even though the music is all wrong. I  
giggle as he maintains the same look as before, and it's a funny look on him  
when he's being playful. It's a mock serious look and I know he's having fun.  
He spins me again and then pulls me back, holding me tight against his body.  
He feels so good.  
As we continue to dance and the heat begins to build, he strings his  
fingers through my hair again and pulls my lips to his. The song has changed  
to a slower beat and he's slipped his arms around my waist. He runs his hands  
underneath my shirt and begins to stroke my flesh. It tickles, but feels  
wonderfully good. His thumb brushes against my spine and I can feel the  
goosebumps. His kiss becomes a little more forceful and I can feel his tongue  
again. He pulls me closer, kissing me and tightening his grip. I wrap my arms  
around his neck and devour his lips quite passionately. What a feeling this  
is. He really is mine. He stops kissing me and gently starts to massage my  
lower lip with his teeth. It doesn't hurt at all, and rather is starting to  
make me feel a little warm. I can't help but moan slightly before pulling him  
closer and kissing his neck while he kisses mine.  
His hands start to move now. The hand he kept in my back moves around and  
slowly starts to finger the button of my blouse. I can feel it come undone  
and it's something of shock, I admit. I push him a little. I don't know why.  
I'm startled. We've never gone this far, he's never done that. He opens his  
mouth to say something but in that second, I realize that I want him. I  
silence him before he can speak, my lips grasping his, my tongue probing his.  
He kisses me back and holds me tighter. I move my hands up over his chest to  
his shoulders and start to push back on his jacket. I feel his arms fly off  
of me for a second to help me push his jacket off. I hear it softly land on  
the floor while his arms slip around me again. I love the warmth of his arms.  
I love him.  
His hands move back to my blouse and move down, slowing undoing the  
buttons. Within a minute, I can feel him slip the light shirt back off of my  
body. I hope that what he finds doesn't disappoint him. It's been so long  
since I've done this. His hand slips forward and strokes my stomach gently.  
He leans his forehead against mine, something he loves to do and holds me  
close. I smile at him as I slip my hand around his neck and start to unbutton  
his shirt. He smiles back as I pull him into the hallway. He knows where the  
room is. We've slept there, fully clothed, sleeping only, but not tonight.  
Not now.  
Tonight is the night for a new kind of dance.

... . The End..... For Now...

~D.C.  
Batman


End file.
